Sunday, September 16, 2007

This Empty House

Big Guy has been at college for two weeks now. Most days it seems like he’s been gone much longer, and we miss him a lot. Every day there are nostalgic reminders that our youngest son no longer lives here:

We have hot water for our morning showers. Big Guy was very clean—those nearly 30- minute showers every day assured that.

Our evening meals are uninterrupted by his cell phone vibrating. Now maybe I’ll be joining the group(ies) interrupting his dinner with a phone call or text message.

There are frozen pizzas and hamburger patties sitting untouched in the freezer. A mother can only hope that his dorm cafeteria serves food to his liking, because I doubt they offer Totino’s there.

The driveway is always empty. The battered ’89 Ranger was supposed to retire in Colorado, but has motored its way to Big Guy on the other side of the Rockies.

The area in front of the television is clear of the PlayStation, X-Box, and Guitar Hero paraphernalia. I bittersweetly miss the mess, and also his friends who congregated downstairs playing the games, watching TV, and visiting. They were good kids. Often loud, and boisterous, but good kids.

There is only one gallon of milk in the refrigerator at a time. Big Guy’s guzzling of moo juice required the purchase of at least 4 gallons per week. Keep swigging the milk, Big Guy—forget the soda pop in the cafeteria and vending machines!

The piano is silent. Big Guy’s playing was often quite dramatic (interpretation: loud) and echoed throughout the house. It was commanding, impressive, and beautiful.

There are no empty microwave popcorn bags on the kitchen counter. I often thought Big Guy left the remnants of his late-night snack there intentionally, even though the wastebasket was a mere 3 feet away. It was kind of our personal friction point, silly and trivial, but ongoing. I refused to throw them away, and I would then write him polite little notes asking him to do so. I think there is a microwave oven in the commons area of his dorm. I wonder who throws the popcorn bag away now.

The lawn is extremely long. Big Guy kept it looking trim and tidy all summer long…we need a new lawnboy!

I can peacefully sleep right through the midnight hour. Although groggy, I was always appreciative that Big Guy very dependably checked in to tell us he was home safely whenever he had been out after we had gone to bed. Now there’s no curfew at college, and will his roommate even care if he’s out late? (Should I have Big Guy check in with me with a phone call…..? Just joking.)

Our house seems empty without him, even though when he lived here, Big Guy was often away for sports, school, and church activities. My husband and I enjoy some of the new peace and quiet, but we definitely miss him. We’re looking forward to Thanksgiving, when Big Guy and his brother will be home. Maybe they’ll throw an X-box or Guitar Hero party, and invite over a bunch of raucous friends. We will not protest a bit.


Comments:
Nice thoughts, especially about a teenager! Where is he going to college?
Where is the son from the Russia pictures now?
 
Well, it's true that when the teenagers leave, they leave a big empty space. My hubby does the Leave The Microwave Popcorn Bag On The Counter thing. I haven't figured out what that's supposed to mean. I think he wants to give me job security?
 
Although they don't live together, both Big Guy and the son from the Russia pictures "rise and shout" at the same university in Utah.
 
Your sons are now "Utah Men" and do they "Live Across The Green"....?
 
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